


“When he looks at me, the way he looks at me, he does not know what I lack or how I am incomplete; he sees me for what I am, as I am”

by pauliemeatballs



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21824002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pauliemeatballs/pseuds/pauliemeatballs
Summary: A Sighardt fanfic set in my college professor AU! Sig is an astrophysics prof & Rein is a phys ed/weight training prof, both of whom are trying to process their crushes on each other & how they're too shy to let the other one know. Divided into three parts and an epilogue themed around how they nourish and fulfill each other. Title taken from The Shape of Water (2017).
Relationships: Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper/Reinhardt Wilhelm
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	1. Body

To Reinhardt, the sun did not officially rise nor did the academic day truly start until he saw Siebren strolling towards the natural science building, and crossing paths with him while on his way to the Fitness Center. He swore he could always feel a breath of fresh air each time Siebren regarded him with a toothy smile and a perky “hello”, or an earnest nod when he was in a hurry. Rein’s weight lifting class didn’t start until ten-thirty in the morning, which gave him a couple of hours to get a few reps in, though lately he found himself daydreaming about Siebren more and more often. He was, at least in Rein’s opinion, the most intelligent person on campus, and the smartest man that Rein had ever known. Only the best of the best made it into his astrophysics classes, and while the atmosphere he facilitated was loose and friendly, students entered and left with serious looks on their faces, ready to tackle the next round of challenges he stacked against them. It was for this contrast that Siebren was well known and well loved among the student body, the blend of his intellect and endearing care for his students motivating them to look forward to their next class. Rein’s own roster of students felt very much the same way towards him, but as far as he was concerned, Siebren was the brilliant sun the entire campus revolved around. The way he incensed Rein called to mind the same feeling he got when standing outside during a beautiful summer day, enveloped in heat and life like a cozy, protective cloak.

Rein hadn’t noticed his shake bottle was beginning to perspire, the icy smoothie inside melting while the minutes stretched on as he continued thinking about his friend. It never occured to Rein that it was silly or improper to have such a passionate crush at the age of sixty-one. He was not a man who lived his life with the fear of regret weighing on his back, choosing instead to appreciate and love every simple thing it offered. This was his favorite, the reminder that love could never be restricted to certain ages. He rose to take a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall next to the one for hand sanitizer, and sat back on the weight bench to wipe at the sides of the bottle, absentmindedly popping the cap open and taking a large gulp. The tastes of banana and peanut butter seemed to float past his taste buds, his mind wholly preoccupied with analyzing each and every attractive little thing about Siebren. The endless array of argyle sweater vests he sported every day, worn snugly over crisp, clean, complementary-colored dress shirts. His sandy slacks that attractively hugged his legs the higher up they went. The shiny brown Oxfords that reminded Rein of expertly crafted wood. The way his thin graying hair whitened completely around his temples. The thick horn-rimmed glasses that made his crystalline eyes appear just slightly larger than normal, with the pale gold chain hooking round the back of his neck and hanging down around his ears with librarian-like elegance. He deemed it the cherry on top of a perfectly austere presentation of his age and attitude. The clock ticked away, and everything else around Rein faded from view.

* * *

“MY FRIEND!!!”

Three classes came and went, and it was finally the time of day when Siebren had to relocate to one of the unused classrooms in the fitness building. A few remained here and there on the upper floors, from before the building was renovated to strictly house physical education. It was down Rein’s hall that Siebren had to travel to get to the elevator, something of which he always took the opportunity to chastise him even though he was hardly ever seen empty handed or not exhausted from the walk, his deep brown leather duffel bag appearing to clamp shut like a mouth bulging with the paperwork inside. The need for steady travel and a quick rest for his strained arm, however, did not deter Rein from scooping the older man up in his arms for a tight hug, as he almost automatically motioned to do now. He saw Siebren’s face in the little moments leading up to it, melting with welcoming affection that also contrasted the widening of his eyes as he braced for impact. Despite the expectation, he still exhaled sharply as if he’d been shoved in the stomach, and Rein felt his body sing with heat when Siebren wrapped his arms around him to keep from being dropped, even moreso when Siebren briefly buried his face in Rein’s neck to stay his dizziness as he was spun. He wanted to stop time, to just stay like this for a little while longer. Siebren was so close to him. He smelled so good and he was the perfect weight while in his embrace; not too heavy, not too light. He opened his eyes to spot Siebren’s legs lifted into the air, and his smile widened when he heard his raspy laughter.

“Hello, my dear,” Siebren said as he was set back down, adjusting his glasses with one hand while clasping the back of Rein’s neck with the other. “Ooh. Sweaty.” He retracted his hand and rubbed the fingertips together.

“Sorry,” Rein said with a chuckle, not noting how his demeanor had completely changed; instead of standing up straight, his shoulders were ever so slightly hunched forward, his hands held together in front of him, his posture leaning in Siebren’s direction as if he wanted every cell to bask in Siebren’s presence.

“Did you eat?”

“Not yet. I’ll have my long break after this class and then I’ll get something.” As if to comically punctuate him, Siebren’s stomach growled, and Rein took his cue to pull a peanut butter granola bar out of his back pocket.

“Ah! Thank you!” Siebren chirped as he took it from Rein and slipped it into his own pocket.

“You should at least try to get something from one of the cafes, hm?”

Siebren leaned down to retrieve his duffel back from the floor. “Mm-mm. Not even if I were starving. I don’t trust that garbage.”

“Oh, come on…”

“You don’t eat anything from there, do you?” 

Rein remained silent. 

“Exactly.” 

“Still, you could order some fries or get yourself a salad,” Rein said while mussing up Siebren’s hair. “You’re quite safe with those.”

“Not once have I ever had water from the fountains here, and I exercise the same caution when it comes to however they wash their lettuce,” Siebren replied as he unzipped his bag to dig around for the classroom keys. His seriousness was cut by the small smile he made when he felt Rein’s hand on his head.

“You’re so stubborn.” A pause as Rein pondered the intimacy of his upcoming offer. “ _Ich könnte dir etwas zu essen machen und es dir bringen, (I could make you something to eat and bring it to you,)_ ” he murmured within Siebren’s earshot alone. He gave him a small wry grin.

“ _Waarom fluister je? (Why are you whispering?)_ ”

Rein knew why, though if he were to ponder it fully he’d become a stuttering mess within seconds. He knew that over time students had begun to notice the affection between the two of them. Luckily, he thought, college students were entirely self-absorbed for the utmost academic efficiency, so the idea of any rumors spreading seemed only fantastical to him. Whether or not people thought he was dating his friend was of no consequence, but it also was not for the consumption of others. His love was for Siebren and Siebren alone, and he’d be damned if their affection was to be filtered through the perspective of an audience who would assume they knew the two men better than they knew themselves. For the time being, Rein chose bravado over honesty. 

“Because you are my friend and I rarely get to do nice things for you.” It wasn’t an answer to the question by any means, but it helped him successfully dodge the truth enough that it was hidden in plain sight. Siebren’s expression quickly melted into heartfelt flattery. With the way Rein leaned back against the wall with his arms folded, and the way Siebren looked so academically cocksure with his perfect posture and his firm grip on the duffel bag, Rein was reminded of his own time in school. He wondered what Siebren’s was like, since it had never been brought up between them. Was he popular? Was he bullied? Was he a wallflower? Did girls like him? Did boys like him? Was he the type to hang out with his teachers during free periods? Rein mentally put money on the last idea. He couldn’t imagine a time in Siebren’s life where he’d go along with the crowd.

“You absolutely don’t have to do anything like that.”

“Ah, see, but that’s the thing about gifts. You give them because--” He paused to playfully squish Siebren’s cheeks together, wiggling his head from side to side. “--you want to.” The older man’s face scrunched up as he smiled.

“Ah, _jij bruut_. It's not necessary. I’m only here three days out of the week.”

“Exactly. I never get to see you.”

“You see me now.”

“I do.” They stopped to look at each other. Rein immediately felt himself beginning to sweat. He wondered if Siebren regarded him in the same way. The mere idea made his stomach turn, but in the manner that followed flight rather than fear. 

“Go. Your people need you,” Rein told him, gently flicking him on the nose. “Out of my sight. Go, go.”

Siebren grinned. “ _Je jaagt me weg en dan huil je als ik weg ben. (You send me away and then you cry when I’m gone.)_ ” The elevator bell tinged, and Reinhardt found he wasn’t entirely wrong.

* * *

Siebren had a spot to eat lunch on campus, ironically near one of the cafes; a black picnic bench shaded just so by a skinny tree with vivid green foliage, close enough to the coffee shop that he’d pop in every now and again for a cup of tea. At the time of day his break began, many of the students on campus were in class, and very few traveled by. Those who did greeted him warmly. Today, however, was chillier than most, but Siebren was settled in his spot regardless of the weather, typing on his holopad through fingerless gloves and reaching every now and again into the pretzel bag next to it. He silently thanked whomever that the day was not windy as well as cold. His ears and nose wouldn’t have been able to take it.

Rein’s own felt frostbitten, and he cursed himself for assuming his exertion during classes would make up for his lack of a scarf or hat. He made a beeline for the coffee shop, hunched over with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, as if the cold wouldn’t notice him. He could almost taste his usual peppermint hot chocolate warming him from within, before the sight of Siebren got to him first. He, too, was hunched over, but with focus instead of discomfort. Rein craned his neck to see if the older man had anything else on the table besides his bag of pretzels, and sure enough he saw a couple of fruit-and-mixed-nut granola bars. Rein grinned brilliantly. This was his moment. The discussion of preparing food for Siebren was merely a tease for the gift he’d already made for him; home-made banana nut muffins, with just the right amount of protein powder mixed in that one of them alone could substitute a meal. He stepped forward as if directed by a stagehand. _It is the east, and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moo--_

“SIEBREN!” Reinhardt yelled suddenly, before he curled in on himself from embarrassment at his own thoughts. Siebren jumped up slightly, clearly startled, but in a way that inferred his familiarity with the noise. He turned with his hand on his chest.

_“Wat is er mis met jou? (What’s wrong with you?)”_ he asked with a half smile.

“I could ask the same of you. You’re out here all alone in the cold.”

“I’ll live. It's the only time of day I have to myself. I don’t want to be cooped up in the classroom.” As the last syllable left his lips, he felt Reinhardt’s large rough hand gently clasp the top of his head, as if he were picking out fruit. Then he felt the larger man’s fingers rub against his head ever so softly, as if he were trying to warm him. Siebren blushed.

“But you’re freezing. I was about to get a hot chocolate. You want one?”

Siebren paused before giving his answer, thoroughly enjoying the warmth Rein’s palm emitted against his scalp. “Sure, why not? A salted caramel, please.” His touch seemed to linger as he walked off into the coffee shop. Siebren turned and leaned his elbow on the table, putting his own hand where Rein’s was as if to try and capture the ghost of his fingers against his skin before it was wisped away. He absentmindedly rubbed the tips of his own together to savor the invisible imprint, while leaning his cheek on the heel of his hand. Watching Rein through the window, hunching down slightly so he didn't tower so imposingly over the baristas, made him laugh softly to himself. But it also triggered an abrupt pang of loneliness that made him furrow his eyebrows. _Why? He was just here,_ he told himself. He felt like a starving man in a restaurant he couldn’t afford, or as if he were trying to learn a language he’d only been brought up hearing instead of speaking. His stomach growled again, a little quieter this time, and sweat began to vapor lightly across his nose and cheeks.

Rein pushed the door open with his foot and walked back over to Siebren, who appeared to be lost in thought, but promptly blinked himself back to reality once he saw the golden threads of caramel drizzled over his swirl of whipped cream. 

“Ah, careful now,” Rein chided while walking around to sit opposite of him. “You need some of this every now and again, otherwise the wind will blow you away.”

“I’m not small, Reinhardt. I don’t know where you got that idea.”

“You’re small to me. I can pick you up and spin you around like a clearance sign.”

Siebren cocked an eyebrow while he sipped, clearly amused. “I exercise too. You act like I weigh ninety-eight pounds or something.”

“Ah, _du redest viel (you’re a lot of talk)_ , but look at your waist! Your neck! Skinny like a chicken.” He unwrapped a plastic spoon from a napkin and scooped up a fluff of cream.

“Like a dinosaur,” Siebren replied with a sardonic smile. “I believe it was you who pointed out how ‘pointy’ I am. This is just how I am built.”

Rein smiled back. “Then perhaps, you need to wean yourself off of pretzels and...” He dug through his own duffel bag for his lunch pack, retrieving the banana muffin wrapped in plastic. “...let _me_ feed you.” Siebren’s eyes lit up at the sight of it, his flattered smile softening his face so much that Rein felt it in his gut, as if someone jabbed him with a long instrument. 

“ _Dwaas. Je hoefde dit niet te doen. (Fool. You didn’t have to do this.)_ ” It hid what he truly wanted to say: “ _You pay attention to me._ ”

“ _Zu schade. Ich bin dickköpfig wie du. (Too bad. I’m stubborn like you.)_ ”

Siebren felt his eyes and nose prickling wetly, not from real tears but from the overstimulation of joy and love. He delicately unwrapped the muffin and pried off a piece from the top, not noticing at first how Rein had propped his chin up against his steepled fingers to watch with gleeful excitement. The flavor of the banana was acute but not completely overpowering, having been accented wonderfully by cinnamon and brown sugar. It had been baked perfectly: not greasy, but not dry and overly crumbly either.

“I love it. It’s wonderful.”

“I know. _Ich bin ein guter Koch. (I’m a good cook.)_ ”

“And I’m not,” Siebren replied. “What a perfect couple we make.” They began to giggle.

“As long as you are the breadwinner. _I_ am the housewife.” That made Siebren snort while he was eating, and he began to cough into his fist through his laughter.

“ _Je bent een dwaas. (You are a fool.)_ ”

“And your housewife.”

“ _Zwijg. (Shut up.)_ ” Siebren brought the muffin to his mouth to take a bigger bite, with Rein still watching him adoringly. He felt his chest seize slightly at his next proposal, both at it's boldness and it's riskiness.

“Prove it, why don’t y--” 

“Which remi--”

They stopped to look at each other, and laughed softly at the other’s interruption.

“You go ahead,” Rein offered.

Siebren blushed again. Hard. And he knew with the frigid weather, his pallor must have made it all the more apparent.

“I was going to say…” He swallowed. “...you should invite me to dinner. If you’re so sure of yourself.”

Rein gave him a furtive smile. “What a coincidence. I was just about to let you know you have no choice but to dine with me this week.”

“Oh, really?” He averted his gaze from Reinhardt’s, hiding his shyness with dry wit. “Well then, if I have no choice...”

“You don’t. Otherwise I’ll crumple you up and shove you in my pocket.” Rein reached to pinch Siebren’s long nose.

“Ow.” Another bite of the muffin. The top was just about gone. Rein moved to take Siebren’s free hand into his own, massaging it gently.

“Look, this is what I mean. You get so cold so fast,” Rein said, completely ignoring how he was losing feeling in the shells of his ears. Siebren immediately felt dizzy, the kind of dizziness that preluded a great exhilarating thrill, and took one of Rein’s hands to place it palm-down on his head again. It felt right.

“Then you must keep me warm,” he said with a cheerful smile.


	2. Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 2: the second part

The third floor of the fitness building was much quieter than the lower two, and had a fresher quality of air since it wasn’t mugged down by sweat and body odor and overused exercise tools. Siebren’s usual auditorium had to be used in the afternoon by a cinema studies professor who needed the smartboard for showing films, so at the moment Siebren was confined to a small traditional classroom, with just a few differences that distinguished it as the kind that belonged in college. It wasn’t at either end of the hallway, so he had no windows. The floor was pleasantly carpeted, but the chairs for the desks were an ugly shade of red, and the dull cream-colored walls were blank. He enjoyed the walk between the two buildings but finally getting to his destination was always somewhat of a letdown. It was much too confining and blasé, and the whiteboard too small to accomodate his lessons. Even the desk was uncomfortable, but he surmised it was better than nothing. It would be another hour and a half before his final class, and then he could go back to his own room. Maybe even sleep a little more before heading home to grade schoolwork. In the meantime, Siebren removed his glasses, draped his peacoat over his shoulders, and rested his head on his arms, enjoying the quiet. 

Rein had always enjoyed the smell of elevators, as strange as it was to say so. It was a sort of smell he attributed to business, to bustling work and academia, not too far off from what an office supply store smelled like. Of course, it reminded him of Siebren, which made him want to look down his body and see if anything needed to be adjusted, but his gray spandex t-shirt and black track pants already seemed fixed in place properly. Still, he ran his fingers through his hair and pinched the collar of his shirt to billow out any moisture. Once the elevator’s bell tinged and the doors opened, Rein felt as if he’d stepped into a different world. Because the third floor was barely used, the lights were dingy, some even flickering, and many of the classrooms were locked and dark inside. Some had desks pushed out for the purpose of relocation to other classrooms on campus, but to Rein the whole thing seemed like he’d entered a haunted house of some sort. A haunted house pacified by the lone bright light of Siebren’s room.

“Who’s there?” Siebren asked groggily when he heard Rein’s knock, not moving from his position.

“The chancellor. You’re fired for snoozing on the job.”

He smiled. “Tell the chancellor he can shove it.” He rose to let Rein in, feeling heat in his chest when he ducked under the doorframe to fit inside.

“That’s the closest I’ve heard you come to cursing.”

Siebren raised his eyebrows in agreement. “Get me drunk and I’ll teach you every Dutch cuss word I know.”

“You look drunk already.”

“I wish.” Siebren dropped back down into his chair, looking like he’d fall asleep at any moment. Rein took a chair out from under a desk and sat in front of Siebren’s own, needing to spread his legs to get close enough for his elbows to rest on the surface.

“You okay?” he asked, chin in hand.

Siebren paused before responding. “Tired. Just very tired. This room doesn’t help much either.”

“No kidding. Looks more like a cell to me.”

He didn’t answer, staring off to the side into space. Rein took the opportunity to gently squeeze his nose between his index and middle knuckles, making the older man smile a bit.

“Did you need something from me?” he asked.

“I did. Very, very important,” Rein replied theatrically. Siebren raised his eyebrows again, inquisitively this time.

“I wanted to see my friend.” Rein propped his chin up on both hands and batted his eyelashes, making Siebren snicker.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much to say.”

“I’m not asking you for song-and-dance. I just wanted to see you. _Kleiner narr (Little fool)_.

Siebren blushed, a heartfelt smile washing over his face this time. His eyes were locked on his clasped hands, when suddenly his vision began to blur. The uncomfortable pricking of his sinuses mixed with the painful closing of his throat made him whimper as he sniffed.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?” Rein whispered as he quickly hauled his chair over to his side. Again, he didn’t answer, wiping his eyes with his knuckles. Rein knew he needed time to gather his thoughts, and rubbed his palm gently against his back, feeling his own throat begin to close. Once he detected it he tried to swallow as often as possible. Siebren couldn’t know. He already looked so sad.

“Nothing specific,” he responded, his voice deeper from the effort it took to force it up. They sat in silence for a time. Siebren leaned on his elbows, his cheek against his steepled knuckles, his eyes bleary and utterly despondent. Without disturbing the quiet, Rein slipped his fingers in the space between Siebren’s hands, beckoning them apart so he could hold one between his own. He took a moment to examine it: the hair on the knuckles, the winding veins, the way his bones jutted out underneath his skin, the healthy glow of his nails, the way the hair on his arms crept up over his wrist. Rein was deep enough in his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice Siebren’s fingers closing around him. His eyes were still spacey, looking down at their hands like a man delirious enough with thirst that even water looked foreign to him. A tear fell listlessly down his cheek, and Rein reached to wipe it away with his thumb.

“I’m old,” he finally rasped. “I’m old and alone. Every day it's the same thing. I wake up alone and come here and see everyone together in some way, and then the day ends and I go home alone.” He sniffed. “I hate this room. It's like a reminder of everything. I don’t get sunrises anymore. Just alarms. Signals. Everything is a task, even sleeping, and I don’t have the energy anymore.”

Rein knew exactly what he meant. Siebren rested his face against the heel of his palm, continuing to cry without moving his face or making a sound. And then he smiled. Sadly, but it was still a smile.

“I’ll be fine soon.”

“I know you will. You’re strong.”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Doesn’t mean you aren’t.” Rein moved his other hand to stroke Siebren’s hair.

“ _Waarom ben je zo aardig tegen me? (Why are you so kind to me?)_ ”

The inquisitive tone in his voice was genuine, with a hint of disbelief, as if he didn’t deserve it. It didn’t occur to Rein that he had anything to hide, and yet his mind once again adjusted itself to hide his feelings in plain sight.

“ _Du bist mein Freund. Wie viele alte Blässhühner wie wir können sagen, dass wir in unserem Alter welche haben? (You are my friend. How many old coots like us can say we have any at this age?_ )” He squeezed the back of Siebren’s neck. “ _Wir sollten da draußen sein und Enten füttern oder Hilfe auf der anderen Straßenseite bekommen. (We’re supposed to be out there feeding ducks or being helped across the street.)_ ” Siebren giggled, a brief moment of tender amusement before his face ironed out again, as if he were pondering something. He then appeared to move in slow motion, arms outstretched, before leaning forward and wrapping them around Rein.

“ _Ik denk dat ik een beetje geluk heb, (I suppose I’m rather lucky,)_ ” he murmured. Rein closed his eyes and sighed shakily, fighting the persistence of his tears.

“ _Wir sind uns schon ähnlich. Wir sprechen kein Englisch, wenn es uns mit etwas ernst ist. (We're already alike. We don't speak English when we're serious about something.)_ ” Rein said as he embraced him. They laughed against each other’s shoulders. 

“Here, come sit with me.”

“...There?”

“Only if you want to. I don’t want to make you fee--”

Siebren hesitantly moved up the short distance and sat across Rein’s lap, draping an arm around him before settling back into his hug.

“Am I heavy?” he asked into the larger man’s shoulder.

“Not at all.”

It was true. There was significant weight, but nothing Rein couldn’t handle. He circled his arms around the older man's torso, gently rubbing up and down his back.

“I’m taller than you now,” he whispered. Rein chuckled, and Siebren felt the bass of it deep in his chest. 

“ _Dummkopf._ ” He breathed Siebren in and smiled, resting with him in peace.

“I wish I were small sometimes,” Rein said after a while. Siebren didn’t respond right away, working out the meaning in his head. Still, he asked anyway.

“Why?”

“I feel the same way you do. Think about the same things.” Siebren stared off into space, numbing his senses to everything but the sound of Rein’s voice. “Sometimes I wish I could just shrink up and disappear, like it’d be better that way.”

“You’d miss me.”

Rein grinned. “I would.” He shrugged the shoulder Siebren was leaning on to bring them face to face. “So no, you’re not too heavy.” Siebren grinned back, and Rein decided he was even more beautiful smiling through his sadness. He began to giggle all of a sudden, rather uncharacteristically in the moment, Rein thought.

“What, are you laughing at me now?”

“No, I just thought of you in lederhosen for some reason.” He continued to laugh, and Rein’s smile brightened even more.

“I _have_ lederhosen. You can see when you come over for dinner on Friday.”

“I don’t know what that entails.” 

The two of them were silent, and then snorted into peals of laughter, still holding onto each other. Rein stopped to breathe, but then felt his chest seized by icy panic as his feelings became harder and harder to bury, almost escaping his lips. Almost. He swallowed.

“You _are_ still coming over, right?”

“Of course. What a wonderful way to spend the weekend. I’d never give that up.”

“Good. I’ll make this all go away,” Rein said as he wiped one of Siebren’s eyes with his knuckle. Siebren looked at him as if he were the only thing in the world that mattered, and sublimely proud that he had him all to himself. With the way the fluorescents gleamed behind his head, Reinhardt thought he looked rather holy.

“I can bear it with you.”


	3. Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part 3: part harder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- https://i.imgur.com/CkDCmEF.png  
> \- reference for rein's house: https://i.imgur.com/nnVnOH3.png  
> \- I think I'm going to write an epilogue

_(god make me small)_

Rein was roused awake at four-thirty-three in the morning, suddenly feeling a deep, burning fatigue in his chest as if he’d been sprinting. It wasn’t his health, nor was it a nightmare. It oozed down into his stomach, making him feel like he was spinning at mach speed. Not a nightmare, no. A dream. A beautiful dream. He was in his kitchen, working with food that his mind did not take the time to render, as it wasn’t the heart of the dream itself. That appeared behind him. Dark-haired arms wrapping around his waist. The soft poke of a nose between his shoulder blades. Deep, raspy humming that thrummed through his chest. The smell of pencils and paper and markers. Rein set the knife down and removed his vinyl gloves, holding Siebren’s hands against his belly. They spoke without sound. Rein moved to wash his hands and dry them to slip into another set of gloves, when he felt Siebren standing on his toes to brush his hair aside and kiss the back of his neck, letting his lips linger. Rein turned to face him, hands still wet and soapy, to cradle his face and bring his lips to his own. Siebren giggled against his mouth when he felt the soap suds against his cheeks, even moreso when Rein gently pet his head and made his now damp hair stand up on end. The light coming through the window was impossibly bright, like the aftermath of a nuclear bomb, but Rein felt no fear. Not yet.

_(god make me small)_

He buried himself under the covers, hugging a pillow. It was painful, and the shame began to separate and rise up. _You are a brute._ Siebren was right. He wasn’t a small man. Rein just never told him he called him small as an ironic joke. He himself was seven feet three inches. A hulking mountain of a man, all his life. Siebren was also incredibly tall, coming up short of Rein’s height by six inches. Though he did not have to duck through doorways like Rein, he still had to look down at his students like he was standing on a ladder. He remembered the last time he saw Siebren exercise. He had fallen asleep in the middle of a workout session, and accidentally ended up staying the entire night on campus. When Rein entered the gym, acidic pain and fear bludgeoned him directly in the stomach once the lights flickered on and Siebren’s body was revealed, limply draped over the weight bench on his back. The anxiety told him that he had died exerting himself, and that it was somehow Rein’s fault. But then the older man snored a little bit, and Rein sighed. And began to laugh, and laugh, and it woke Siebren up almost immediately, the unnatural position of his body preventing him from entering a truly deep sleep. He yelped comically, rolling off the bench and landing on the floor with a sound that drove Rein to jubilant tears through his laughter. When he was able to, he walked over to Siebren, who refused to get up out of shame, thinking the floor made him invisible. He looked down at the man. Ridiculous. So ridiculous. And so beautiful. Siebren usually swam in his frumpy sweaters and slacks but now he was here in attire more suited for Rein himself; a black spandex shirt with sleeves that ended just before his wrist, with charcoal shorts that stopped above his knees. Rein could see the outline of muscle in his upper body, well toned and taken care of, while, much to his amusement, his core remained soft despite his waist tapering inward the lower it went. Rein was able to see the soft swell of his belly, the fall having moved the hem just a little that he could see the trail of hair starting below Siebren’s belly button. His thighs were not well developed, and though his calf muscles were visible, they were incomparable to Rein’s, or even any of his students’. He extended his hand, and Siebren reached to grab it, his lips curved into a slight smirk at his own ridiculousness. 

Rein exhaled through his nose, a shaky sound that made it seem he had been crying. He was too jumbled up inside to muster tears, however. He felt like a ball of rubber bands, an invisible force pulling at his nerves and letting them snap back painfully. It had been a little over forty-eight hours since he had Siebren sitting in his lap, hugging him and crying, whispering tender things into his neck, confiding in him, _wanting_ him to make him feel better, to reassure him that life was worth living. Siebren relayed that he was alone, depressed, trapped in the monotony of daily life, but it was to Reinhardt that he turned to alleviate that pain. Reinhardt who received his smiles, his terms of endearment, his gentle touches and hugs. Reinhardt whose embrace he saw as his only salvation that day. _Am I his sun? Does he love me too?_

The thought finally pushed Rein to tears, mostly out of disbelief. _Why would he love you? You’re a beast. You pick him up and toss him around like a toy. You tower over him and yell into his face constantly. You yank at his nose and squeeze his head and smash his cheeks together, and you’re always in his peripherals. You’re so unabashed. You’re shameful and perverse and overbearing. You never let him breathe. Everywhere he goes he looks around the corner for you, waiting for you to pounce and tear him to pieces. He doesn’t go to you because he loves you. He goes because he is alone and he has no other choice._

_He is terrified of you._

_(god make me small)_

* * *

Siebren stood in his office, looking at himself in a small rectangular mirror on the wall opposite his desk. Truly, he didn’t know what to expect when doing so. He never admitted it to anyone nor exhibited behavior that displayed it but Siebren was rather confident in his looks. He liked his nose. He liked his eyebrows. He liked his scattered freckles and uneven teeth and underbite. He steepled his fingers flat and briefly rested his chin on them, as if it’d make him look more charming, and turned his face to the side to admire his nose. Truthfully, he even began to warm up to his hair, or what was left of it. He took some of it between his fingers and wisped it, as Rein enjoyed doing, but the thought of Rein immediately grounded him in seriousness. He looked down at his feet and his face seemed to disappear from the mirror in his peripheral vision. It was madness. Ridiculous juvenile madness was what he was feeling. He could be a grandfather. He was at the era of his life where everything started to hurt. So why was the idea of telling Reinhardt the depths of his feelings so terrifying? Why did a thousand broken bones seem more inviting than telling Rein he liked _(loved)_ him? Almost immediately, his brain calculated an answer, though he already knew it in his heart.

_(it's a risk)_

_Reinhardt wouldn’t be afraid of risks._

_(then why hasn’t he said anything yet)_

The thought made Siebren’s throat close up. He looked back into the mirror like a stunned animal. Fear ruled him. Cautiousness dictated every choice. Repression prevailed over passion. _Because it's better to be safe than sorry! If wanting to spare myself pain makes me a coward, then I’m a coward!_

_(you_ are _a coward)_

Rein wasn’t a coward. Rein was big and brash and confident. His mere presence promised a better tomorrow. Every time Rein cannonballed into his daily routine, Siebren felt himself swallowing his desire to just be happy, to just open himself to his friend, to just _be_ , and it felt like swallowing glass. While he sustained himself on pain and isolation, Rein ate his fill in the world of the sociable, the unafraid, the proud. He would never hunger for the likes of him.

_But he touches me, he feeds me, he’s always happy to see me._

_(pity)_

Siebren swallowed, folding his arms and putting a hand over his mouth, as if it would remove the power of his feelings as he proclaimed them.

_I love you._

No one answered.

* * *

Dusk had fallen, turning the sky a creamy blend of pink, purple, and orange. According to Siebren’s GPS, Rein’s house was just a few minutes away, and he took a moment to glance into his rearview mirror to see if he was following him, or if he'd already zoomed past him. With perfect timing, Siebren heard the thunderous revving of Rein’s motorcycle as he caught up with him on the passenger’s side. He had declined Rein’s offer to ride on the bike behind him, not because he feared for his safety but because he did not want to cramp Rein’s style, as ridiculous of an excuse as it was. He lied and claimed he just didn’t want to leave his car on campus, and it was sensible enough to satisfy Rein. Siebren smiled, just barely enough that he felt it more inside than out. They had entered a sleepy suburban area, and the juxtaposition of Rein’s black-and-chrome motorcycle mixed with his viking-like metalhead attire was incredibly amusing to him. The man roaring into the neighborhood like a soldier leading a cavalry bakes muffins in his spare time. Siebren snorted. Sure enough, Rein sped up ahead of Siebren into the driveway, turning the engine off and removing his helmet, and he tried to ignore how stereotypically beautiful he looked with the wind blowing in his hair while he removed the keys from his own car and stepped out. Rein’s house was situated on a hilly area of the neighborhood, enough that it gave Siebren a lovely view of the inner city area miles away, glittering with light.

“Leave your bag there. It's the weekend. No homework on the weekends.”

Siebren agreed silently, and opened the car door to leave his duffel bag on the driver’s seat. Ahead of him, Rein fiddled with his keys to find the one for the front door, opening it like a butler once it unlocked. 

It was a one-floor house, which Siebren could admit surprised him. Rein always seemed the kind who lived in a castle. At least to him, he did. The long hallway opened left and right, the former to the living room and the latter down another hallway where a bathroom, a basement entrance, a guest room, and his bedroom, at the very end, were located. Straight ahead, Siebren saw an oven, and assumed the little entryway he was looking through was a passage into the kitchen. Walking further inside revealed a dining room north of the living room, the latter itself being framed by two couches in the left and southern corners, a coffee table in the middle, and a large curved flat-screen above a fireplace. Siebren was so entranced by the coziness of the house that he didn’t notice Rein stepping behind him and slipping his coat off from behind. He felt his soft breathing on the back of his neck.

“Oh...why, thank you.”

“Mm-hm. Feel free to look around, if you want. I’m going to go get the meat started.”

“What was it you were making me again?” Siebren asked as he sat on the couch opposite the TV, unlacing his Oxfords.

“German pot roast. ...Well, actually, it's called _sauerbraten_ , but I'm not so fond of the name. Want me to start the fire?”

“Please?”

Rein strolled over to move the grate aside and light a match, the small flame beginning to flood the house with the sweet smell of burning wood. He turned to watch Siebren take his shoes into the hallway, noting how it barely did anything to loosen his appearance.

“Do you want something more comfortable to wear?”

“Hm?”

“You can go into my room for sweatpants and a shirt, if you want. I just figured you’d want to relax a little and not look like a teacher for a few hours out of the day.”

Siebren chuckled. “You trust me in your room? What if I find your lederhosen?”

“Then that’s on me.” He smiled back at Siebren, watching him walk down the hall. “Oh, and watch yourself on the floor. Don’t slip.” Rein stood and cracked his back, plodding over to the kitchen to begin browning the brisket he had in the fridge, swimming in a pool of vegetables, spices, and red wine. Next to the bowl was another filled with boiled potatoes that had chilled overnight. He set them aside on the counter to mash them and form them into dumplings later. While he melted a hefty pat of butter in the pot heating on the stove, he heard the hum of Siebren’s voice.

“How’s this?”

Rein turned, and saw Siebren looking remarkably, elegantly, beautifully average. To Rein’s pleasant surprise, the black t-shirt he’d chosen fit wonderfully over his biceps, and the observation led Rein’s eyes to a visible vein in the right one. Siebren leaned on his elbow against the archway with a hand on his hip, a comically forced sultry look in his eyes that made Rein grin. It also made his heart beat faster. Siebren’s usual conservatism was nowhere to be found, the armor he was forced to don in order to make it through the daily slog completely shed from his skin, and before Rein was a man. Not a professor, not a lonely old-timer. A relaxed, confident man, wholly comfortable in his own skin. And what a man he was. Rein felt profoundly blessed to see him like this. Siebren reminded him of a butterfly that constantly reverted to its pupal stage for protection, the outside world rarely ever seeing the unfurling of his wings. And yet here he was now, practically glowing with charisma.

“Look...at...you. _Du siehst jetzt tatsächlich aus wie ein Student. (You actually look like a college student now.)_ ” Rein said, squeezing one of his shoulders.

Siebren gave him a smirk. “I just took a little longer to graduate.” Rein laughed heartily, reaching to muss up his hair again. This time, Siebren didn’t bow his head, leaning into his touch like a cat. The lights suddenly began to blur in Rein’s peripherals. His mouth became dry, and his stomach twisted with nausea. _The food, the food._

“Help me out with the potatoes, hm?”

“Of course. What do I have to do?”

“Well, here--let me get that for you--just, um, just mash them in this bowl and I’ll get the eggs and flour in a second.” Rein knelt to get a canister of seasoned breadcrumbs from the cabinet below. The less he looked at Siebren, the better.

_(you’ll tell him anyway)_

Everything else seemed to flow past him in a ghostly haze, as if time had sped up while he stood still. Siebren didn’t talk much on his end, but Rein felt himself succumbing to vertigo with every passing second. It was excruciating. Everything was fine up until now. Up until he saw Siebren looking the way he did. The true Siebren. The man who he imagined would awake ethereally bathed in morning light with a smile on his face, ready to face the day, instead of the man who pushed his lust for life down and down and down inside of himself until it practically disappeared, making it so that his suit of armor felt bigger around him, cozier and more protective, when in reality it was he who had shrunk. He who malnourished himself to fit inside. Rein successfully swallowed his tears through the browning process of the brisket, and finally put the lid on the pot to let it simmer in the gravy for the next three hours.

“Just need to wash my hands real quick,” he murmured before shuffling out to the bathroom, not bothering to explain why he couldn’t have just used the kitchen sink. The lock clicked, the faucet ran, and he let himself cry silently. He felt he was standing on the edge of a great precipice, knowing the fall would be exhilarating, would break boundaries, would free him completely, and yet it was still so horrifying. Not only the fall but the full knowledge that he’d be passing up such a milestone. The stagnancy was overwhelming. Pure agony. How could he ever forgive himself for not taking that one step? And how could he step into the unknown completely naked, unaware of glass beneath his feet or needles jutting out into his eyes? The faucet continued to run, and his grip on the edges of the sink tightened.

_I love you._

No one answered.

* * *

Siebren lay against the couch as the TV droned on across the living room, his heart pounding in his chest despite his lazy expression. It was scary, sickeningly daunting, but utterly worth it for the feeling of lightness in his body. For once he didn’t have to cower from external or internal judgement. He didn’t feel the need to punish himself for being a little more outgoing. And he saw that it worked. Rein regarded him differently, with a kind of awe. It felt so much like the way he felt in his arms that day, free and fulfilled and protected _(loved)_. Admittedly, Siebren still felt a little rattled, his mind still trying to process the tiny but significant step towards embracing not only Rein, but himself as well. In a way, he very much did feel like a college student, one who completed a long and difficult assignment only to have his moment of respite cut short by the several other ones that encircled him.

The creaking of the floorboards alerted him to Rein’s presence, the larger man stepping into the living room while wiping his hands on his shirt.

“What are we watching?”

“We’re not. Well, I’m not. You can put whatever you want on.” He watched Rein come around and tap at his legs through the baggy gray sweatpants. 

“Move. Come on.”

Siebren scooted further down the couch to make room for him before sitting up straight and moving back to his side, watching him browse the channel guide with an absentminded look in his eyes. Rein reached to comb his hair back with his fingers, a thick, healthy mullet that was a snowy mix of gray and white. Siebren sat back against the cushions, continuing to regard him, when the larger man's eyes finally lit up at a good find.

“Ah, they never show the original anymore! Aw, but it's almost done. Have you seen this?”

“ _The Thing_? I have. Both versions. I like this one more, though.”

“Hah. I bet you haven’t seen the _original_ original. Or read the book.”

“There’s an older one?”

“Yes! Almost as old as us,” Rein said with a chuckle. “It's funny, though. That version wasn’t very faithful to the book, despite being made twenty-or-so years after it was published. But this version is perfect. Gets everything accurate!”

“And who doesn’t love a disgusting horror movie from the stone age?”

“Hey. Don’t speak ill of the 80’s. All the best movies and music came from our grandparents’ era.”

“I’ll admit, I love the fashion.”

“As long as you like _something_. Otherwise I’ll fold you in half & throw you in the linen closet.”

“Not caring for the 80’s is sacrilege now?”

“Under my roof it is.” Rein reached out to hook Siebren with his arm and dig his knuckles into his head, the older man’s bright laughter bouncing off the walls as he tried to wriggle himself out of his grasp. The two of them eventually mellowed, and settled in to watch what was left of the film, Siebren pillowing his head with his forearm on Rein’s lap, while Rein himself reclined with an arm resting across the top cushions. It reminded the two of them of their previous embrace, seeming to have taken place in a world of their own, separate from everyone and everything else. The casual intimacy came naturally, and by some kind of miracle, fear did not factor in, nor did it register as something that could even be felt. 

* * *

“Okay, so what do you think happened at the end?” Rein asked now that the film had ended, leaving two of them incensed with excitement. They had talked almost all the way through it, Rein pointing out his favorite scenes and Siebren reliving his own, their rapport like that of two old flames who had known each other through thick and thin all their lives.

“What do you mean? Like, which of them died?”

“Well, yes, but not really. Where do you think the thing went?”

Siebren sat back up, rubbing his chin with his knuckle. Rein noticed the faintest amount of stubble growing in.

“Wait a minute, I think I remember reading about this somewhere. ...It's Childs, isn’t it?”

“Yes!! I love it!!!” Rein exclaimed, laughing and practically jumping out of his seat. His joy was contagious, and Siebren began laughing with him. “Ah, it's such a good twist, and barely anyone got it until years later! Tell me, though, since you had to think about it. What gave it away?”

Siebren smirked. “If I remember correctly, it was the temperature. You could see McReady breathing, but not Childs.”

“Haha, yes!!! You're so smart!!” And soon enough, Siebren found himself airborne, locked in Rein’s arms once again, spinning faster, more passionately, as if he’d received life changing news. Siebren laughed and smiled until his cheek muscles were sore. It felt so good to laugh. Rein was so pleased with him for no reason at all, and it was wonderful. When he set him back down again, he felt like a child whose favorite carnival ride had come to a stop. Sublimely dizzy. Deliriously happy. Reinhardt’s face seemed to come into focus through a camera lens, and Siebren felt he was beyond the confines of his body. Without thinking, he sighed, and seemed to fall against Rein’s lips.

The kiss was brief, so brief that Siebren didn’t get to fully register how plush their mouths were against one another. Rein had recoiled immediately, an icy expression of shock plastered onto his face. He looked at Siebren, then down and around, as if he’d been teleported to a strange land. Siebren had taken the step. And he began to fall, and fall, and fall, and the speed at which he fell was nauseating, and, as per his worst fears, he could see the sharp rocks below. His throat had closed up in the blink of an eye as he too looked off to the side, suddenly not being able to look Reinhardt in the eye. He tried to breathe, but could only muster a brief sharp inhale through his nose, and he promptly turned about-face to find his shoes, his socks, to make a beeline for Reinhardt’s bedroom and retrieve his armor and drive home with his coffin of a duffel bag and resign himself to the death of the soul that he deserved. As he scrambled away, Rein calling out to him, “Siebren. Siebren wait--” barely registered, as muffled as the TV was before they began spending time together. 

_(your ears are plugged up because you’re crying because you’re a coward you can’t do anything right you’re a ghost a death rattle that no one hears)_

_(look at what you’ve done he’s terrified of you you made him lower his defenses and walk right into you right into the lion’s mouth and you’re letting him be chewed and swallowed up because you are a beast)_

_(cowards can’t love)_

_(beasts can’t love)_

_(it's over)_

_(it's over)_

“SIEBREN!” _  
_

Reinhardt managed to catch him by his wrist and pull him back, despite how his mind chided him, and gripped him by the shoulders, forcing him to look him in the face. Siebren’s eyes were grotesquely wide, torn open from mortification darting around much like his had done. His face was flushed red, and tears began to roll down his cheeks, though he did not grimace or sob. He looked confused. Utterly confused.

_(rubber bands)_

Following the agonizing piercing sensation in his heart, he brought Siebren’s mouth back to his, surprised somehow that their teeth were not uncomfortably crushed together. He loosened his grip on Siebren’s shoulders and moved his hands up to cradle his face ever so gently. Siebren put his own over them, and inhaled shakily. They stayed locked together for some time, until their lungs screamed for air.

_(i love you i love you please don’t leave me)_

_(i love you i love you please don’t let me go)_

The *smack* of their lips when they parted seemed to echo around the hallway like the firing of a cannon. They breathed into each other’s faces, sweet and warm, while studying the other’s features as if they were seeing each other properly for the very first time. Rein had to break the silence. He had to.

“Are you...afraid of me?”

Siebren looked at him with such a quizzical, heartfelt expression that Rein had to stifle a sob, even moreso when Siebren’s face finally began to crumple up. The grimace, the squinting of his eyes through his hot tears, the furrowing of his eyebrows that so vividly painted a portrait of his feelings, and as they continued to fall from his eyes, so did Reinhardt’s. 

_(my love my love please don’t cry)_

Siebren sniffed loudly.

“ _Ik ben nooit bang voor je geweest. Je maakt me onbevreesd. (I have never been afraid of you. You make me fearless.)_ ”

Rein exhaled through his nose, smiling warmly but still feeling every bit of emotion beginning to flow out of him, like a dam with crack that slowly snaked down against the earth. He began to adorn Siebren’s face with gentle kisses, beginning with his closed eyes.

_(anoint me bless me forgive me)_

He hugged Reinhardt as closely as he could, almost clawing at his back when the new angle of his head redirected Rein’s mouth to his neck. The two began to slip against the hallway wall, sinking down to their knees on the floor, still holding each other. Rein held him so tightly but the pressure wasn’t painful or restricting in the slightest. He kept his mouth against Siebren’s neck, and he swore he could feel the older man’s heart beat against his own. Two people bashing their fists against their own dungeons, howling to be set free.

“ _Du machst mich stark, (You make me strong,)_ ” Rein rasped.

* * *

The two of them stayed curled up against each other on the floor for some time. Their heads felt swollen from the flooding of their sinuses, their muscles tired from the tightness of their embrace. Siebren’s head rested in the crook of Rein’s shoulder, his nose poking his neck just so. He sat sideways between Rein’s criss-crossed legs, his own tucked in like a mermaid’s. _We look like the Pieta_ , he thought sardonically, but he did not have the energy to muster a smile. He looked down at Rein’s arms around him, his hands linking in the middle like a protective gate, and wriggled one of his own up to trace the bones underneath. As he did, Rein brushed his lips against his forehead, unlinking his hands to bring one of Siebren’s up to his mouth, kissing the back as if the older man were a downtrodden prince. He found he could finally muster a smile. A weak one, but it was better than nothing. It came to him easier when he felt Rein trace the bridge of his nose down to the tip.

“I love you,” Siebren sighed. It felt so good to finally say.

“I love you,” Rein answered. He eschewed any sense of agreement, feeling it diminished the meaning. He did not love Siebren too, he did not love Siebren as well; he loved him. It did not do his feelings justice to be anything other than direct. He loved him, he loved him, he loved him.

The smile now felt like soothing heat cutting through frostbitten skin. Siebren lightly traced Rein’s lips with his fingertips, feeling a pleasant tingle in his belly at the softness of his beard, before taking one of Rein’s hands and kissing it the same way.

“ _Kunnen we het nog eens proberen? (Could we try again?)_ ”

Rein looked into his eyes. So hopeful and wise and sad. In that moment, he’d felt more in love with him than ever before. He tipped Siebren’s chin up, their noses grazing past each other, and kissed him tenderly. His mouth was warm, and fitted against his so perfectly he felt it was destined to be. He felt a cool hand cup his cheek. Their lips audibly parted again, and Rein kissed him deeper. Siebren met him with the same hunger; not ravenous, but gracious. There was the moisture, and the feeling of Siebren’s stubble, and the way they softly pursed their lips against one another, and the satisfaction, and the disbelief, and how they felt that even this wasn’t close enough. Siebren could not cry anymore, and yet tears slipped through his closed eyes and down his cheeks. Rein’s own rolled down from the inner corner of his eye. He broke the kiss, and wiped Siebren’s eyes with his thumbs before taking the opportunity to cradle his face and cover him with kisses again, punctuating himself each time with “I love you”. The older man looked completely at peace.

“ _Je bent mijn beste vriend. (You are my best friend.)_ ”

Rein chuckled softly. “I hope that’s not _all_ I am.” Siebren grinned.

“Likewise.”

He brought the back of Siebren’s hand to his lips again, giving it three unbroken kisses. “You are my best friend, too.” They wrapped their arms around each other, sighing contently.

“Are you hungry?”

“I am, but I can wait. We have two more hours, don’t we?”

“Ah, see? You paid attention. I wanted to go wash up, but I don’t want to leave you here,” Rein crooned.

Siebren traced the bridge of Rein’s nose this time. “You don’t have to.” Rein raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise at his boldness.

“But you’ll have to carry me. My legs have fallen asleep.”

They laughed in each other’s faces, their foreheads touching and their posture curling in as if they were trying to hide an inside joke of some kind. When Rein found a comfortable way to cradle Siebren in his arms, he stood smoothly, and he blushed at how matrimonial they looked.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”


	4. Heart

_ Did you ever have someone? Do you know what happened to you? Do you? Because I don't. I don't know what happened to me. I don't know. I look in the mirror and the only thing I recognize are these eyes. In this old man's face. You know, sometimes I think I was either born too early or too late for my life. Maybe we're both just relics. _

The TV in the corner of Rein’s bedroom cast a soft glow over the two men curled closely together under the comforters, Siebren’s head in the crook of his neck and Rein’s arm resting around his back, once in a while idly feeling the bumps of Siebren’s spine with his fingertips. One of his long arms lay over Rein’s torso, also taking its own moments to lazily search Rein’s body by smoothing over his chest hair or tracing his top scars. Once he heard the quote, his eyes darted down to see if Siebren’s expression had changed, being careful not to move his head even though the angle was insufficient and left much to be desired. It echoed the insecurities and fears he voiced earlier in the week, and weighed heavily enough on Rein’s heart that he leaned in to kiss the top of his head. He almost chuckled incredulously when his lips began to part and his gut twisted with longing. To separate from him, even in the briefest and smallest possible way, fanned the flame of his yearning tenfold, even though he had the privilege of feeding him, and washing him, and now knowing him deeper and more intimately than anyone.  _ Not that anyone else deserves him in the first place _ , he mused. Rein felt like a bonfire billowing on an agonizingly hot day, the sun blazing in the sky,  _ his _ sun, watching each orange and yellow feather flicker and snap and reach higher and higher and proclaim it's adoration for that which it wished to join, that which looked down at him proudly, approving his veneration while he himself bathed in the glory and ecstasy of knowing he was the only one worthy of it's eye. The top of Siebren’s head was sweetly warm, and he smelled soft and clean. Rein brushed his lips against his skin.

Each time he felt Rein skimming over him as if he were made of crystal, Siebren sighed and felt himself sink back wonderfully into some kind of divine meditation, hyper-tuning his senses and emotions to the reverence and ardor bleeding from Rein’s soft touch, painting permanent pictures of his love that sank deeply into Siebren’s skin. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back until Rein’s lips were on the bridge of his nose, and then his mouth. The joy flowed exquisitely between them, making Rein chuckle and kiss Siebren deeper while he kissed him back once, twice, three times without breaking contact.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” Rein said, nuzzling Siebren’s nose.

“Me too.” He took Rein’s hand and began kissing the fingertips. “ _ Elke keer als je iets leuks voor me deed, wilde ik op je springen en je de rest van de dag knuffelen. (Every time you did something nice for me, I wanted to jump on you and hug you for the rest of the day.) _ ”

“Mm, doesn’t mean I have to stop doing nice things for you.”

“Oh, of course not. I expect roses and jewels every single day from now on.” They both laughed.

“I shall get them for you and more.” Rein hugged Siebren closer to him, breathing in the smell of his hair. “I was so scared.”

“Hm?”

“Of telling you. I thought you had only been putting up with me because I always hover around you.”

Siebren felt the pain of Rein’s insecurity deep in his chest. “I  _ wanted _ you to hover around me. To always be near me. You worry about me, you pay attention to me, you _ see _ me.” He turned on his side, and Rein followed suit.

“You can always talk to me about anything. Don’t be afraid of sharing things with me,” Siebren whispered as he stroked Rein’s cheek. “I don’t want to see this happy face being used as a mask.”

“And I don’t want you to feel like a burden. When you said you’d be fine when you were crying; it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have someone to feel it with you. You don’t have to suffer in silence.”

The two of them gazed into each other’s eyes, comfortable against their pillows and just shy of an inch from the other’s face. 

“ _ Toen je me in de lucht nam, en ik je kuste, voelde ik me zo vrij. Ik voelde dat er een doel was geweest voor alles. (When you took me in the air, and I kissed you, I felt so free. I felt that there had been a purpose to everything.) _ ” Siebren looked away briefly. “ _ Dat er waardigheid in het lijden zit. (That there is dignity in suffering.) _ ”

“ _ Ich bin damit nicht einverstanden, (I don’t agree with that.) _ ” Rein said, his voice gravelly with seriousness. “ _ Allein und traurig zu sein ist nicht tiefgreifend. Stark genug zu sein, deine Gefühle zu umarmen und die Traurigkeit zu bekämpfen... das ist tiefgründig. (Being alone and sad is not profound. To be strong enough to embrace your feelings and fight the sadness ... that is profound.) _ ” The look in Siebren’s eyes hurt his heart. It told him that this was a kind of philosophy he’d tried adhering to his whole life, but that despair prevailed in the end and convinced him pain is worth it for pleasure.

“You will never be alone again.”

A soft laugh made Siebren grin, and his eyes glimmered with fresh tears. “I don’t want to be alone. And I don’t want you to be alone either.”

Rein continued to look at him. He then made a soft fist, loose enough that the flats of his knuckles were still visible. It took Siebren a moment to realize what he was doing, then remembered what they were watching. He formed a loose fist of his own, and put the flats of his knuckles against Rein’s.

“ _ Du und ich zusammen. (You and me together.) _ ”

“ _ Jij en ik samen. (You and me together.) _ ”

Rein captured Siebren’s lips in one final, achingly deep kiss before they curled up closer, letting sleep claim them. They dreamt of rose petals and gemstones, of fruit groves and ballrooms, and of the sunrise.


End file.
